Joshua Haines Nov 2014

Her voice is strained.
Her skin is fair.
Her breasts lay on the countertop.
I fuck her until my thoughts stop.

She rejects the notion of love for all,
as she leans against my kitchen wall,
with a cigarette and an unbuttoned blouse-
she wants to be homeless in my house.

She keeps me in her necklace's locket,
and I keep her in the wallet in my pocket.
Her toes kiss the linoleum,
she walks like she's made of helium.

She mumbles that I taste like mint chocolate chip,
as she rubs against my hip.
Her breath smells like Malboro Lights,
and I hope she decides to stay the night.

Milky Ways and Vanilla Cakes,
she likes the way my body shakes,
as we lay and eat our troubles away.
Hurried words slow the day.

She asks me about my stretch marks and scars,
and if I've ever been hit by a car.
And I say no, but I've been hit by love before,
and it feels like getting your hand caught in a door.

Hurried smiles and bathroom stalls,
she likes the way my family never calls.
The words escape between her plump lips,
as my hand travels between her hips.

We move until we forget
that the world is moving faster.

The barron earth seems barron still,
The snow is gone but green lost still,
But on the Aspens, the catkins grow,
The male, the female, each in the wind,
The grow and grow and ask to be seen,
A sign of life in a barron land,
The males they dangle, the females erect,
A source of life, before the leaves,
Winter's gone and Spring has rose,
The Aspen Moon approaches full,
A few small leaves upon the ground,
A strawberry, a flower, some blades of grass,
As the Apsen Moon begins to wain,
Fast rushes Springtime just like the Bull,
The catkins promise, the leaves fulfill,
New life, new living, the Aspen Moon.

Alana S Oct 2015

but I’m playing my favorite song for you I know
you can’t hear it cuz you’re
too far away I sink into
the beats and my arms are
solid blocks Moving hurts from
missing
you
it’s my turn to stay now, and gently flip
my heart over, a warm toasted
color like the burnt amber
taste aspen leaves get at the end of spring
missing you is the white hot color
of fire yet the bubbles
of yesterday pop
their ice on my eyes You’re chuckling softly
I’m the words and melodies of our simple
bytimes, when you were here, once
singing and burning and becoming

M Eastman Nov 2014

White dust covered bark
cracked
in black slashes
to crowns of
gold
and yellow

Ormond May 2012

Aspen, stands by river,
Shouting out the noonday sun,
Dwarfed by foothill mountains.

Joe Cole Feb 2016

The turgid brown dirty rolling river
But above the Aspen stands tall
Leaves quivering, shaking, falling
But Aspen roots go deep
Aspens do not fall
Each leaf that in the water drifts
Another life does fade
Each leaf that on the soil lands
Another life regained

Ormond Sep 2012

Aspen, stands by river,
Shouting out the noonday sun,
Dwarfed by foothill mountains.

Ormond Jan 2013

Aspen, stands by river,
Shouting out the noonday sun,
Dwarfed by foothill mountains.

Ormond Jan 2014

Aspen, stands by river,
Shouting out the noonday sun,
Dwarfed by foothill mountains.

Ormond Apr 2015

Aspen stands by stream
Shouting out the noonday sun
Dwarfed by foothill mountains

Nic Evennett Apr 2016

Be the dawn,
The eyes of the birds,
Be their morning hymns.
And from the aspen,
Purest gold,
Give the breeze your wings.

https://soundcloud.com/wingless-night/from-the-aspen
Elioinai Oct 2014

Today I observed the flaming trees,
The flakes of gold drifting in the wind,
Like sleepy fairies,
And I thought,
I want to die like a maple,
die like an aspen in the fall,

as my strength is stripped away,
the underlying poetry of my veins is exposed,
and the tough skin peels back,
to show my unsung melodies,
Every note!

and it is a song,
blending beautifully with the cosmos,
Oh, that I would die like a tree,
when you see my barren body,
remember my last red moment,
full of auroreatic brilliance,

jane taylor Jun 2016

how i have ached to walk amongst the evergreens
encased by dazzling quaking aspen
in my rocky mountain home

i yearn to fall again while skiing
and catch a wisp of icy sky blue
snow powder crystals
on my tongue
orgasmic feelings
rise and fall
as they melt
and disappear

i long to breathe in your scent
sitting on the peak of wooded ridges
amidst slate colored boulders
sea salt combined with cinnamon
laced with wildflowers
crisply filling my lungs

i hunger to once again
behold again your red rock formations
creating tender hollows
through which timid coral sunsets peer

i crave hiking at dusk
into your jagged emerald forests
and sit wistfully mid the columbine
while darkened sunflowers juxtapose
against the jet black emptiness
enticing the stars
to etch enchanting paintings
on inky cobalt skies

hankering to be at the sundance film festival
coyly peeking into restaurants
covertly spying on the movie stars
on old park city main

itching to experience waiting patiently
for a moose to cross the street
its majesty splashing gingerly
sending chills throughout the galaxy
magnificence abounds

i pine to have memories gently cradle me
like worn out patchwork quilts
warmed by incandescent fires
wrapping me in soft colored canvas
the past craving transformation
by an echo that’s now dim

faintly crying out for
an old familiar artist’s brush
that still lingers
to snag times gone by
and paint the future in

amalgamating the antiquated
with the present
luring in
my destiny

i dream to don my fringed leather jacket
and hear my cowboy boots
fiercely clicking
against charcoal shadowed midnight sidewalks
while i watch the harvest moon

i’m parched too see your autumn chestnut leaves
against the bloodshot auburn sky
as cardinal hues give way to glistening winter
melding into tender spring

your summertime birthing
tingles down my spine
as chartreus aspen leaves
morph to golden bisque
enticing ute country
to blow in
copper colored indian summers
with cherry fragrant wind

yutaahih you were called
by the apaches
their historic essence
somehow ingrained within
my every cell
thirsty to lie enveloped
like a long lost lover
in your rugged western terrain

once having left your presence
i return to you now
my heart flutters
with wild anticipation
to see your precious face again
utah

©2016janetaylorhardy

after a 5 year absence, we are returning to utah at the end of this month
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